


Soundshape (Reverberations)

by vulcanhighblood



Category: Bionicle - All Media Types
Genre: Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanhighblood/pseuds/vulcanhighblood
Summary: Lewa was never the same after facing the Kohrak-Kal. He put up a good front, usually. Tonight wasn't one of those nights.
Relationships: Lewa & Onua (Bionicle)
Kudos: 10





	Soundshape (Reverberations)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post](https://vulcan-highblood.tumblr.com/post/132090889331/soundshape-a-bionicle-question).

Le-Koro was abuzz with festivity, the evening coming to life with one of the (many) Matoran festivals that Lewa had once anticipated with childlike impatience. These same events now loomed over him, filling him with a dread so deep it seemed to be seeping from the very marrow of his being, gradually infecting his entire being. Oh he put on a good show of excitement, after all, it wouldn't do to disappoint the Matoran, eager as they were to celebrate the hard-won victory of him and his fellow Toa Nuva. But beneath the forced excitement, a constant thrum of anxiety wormed its way through his person as the evening light dwindled to twilight until finally the only light in Le-Koro came not from the moon, its weak light unable to penetrate the thick jungle vegetation. Instead, the dancing, yellow glow of ceremonial bonfires lit the village, bringing a warmth to Lewa's heart for which no mere fire could account. The warmth of family, of togetherness and belonging was an ever-present sensation among his welcoming, beloved villagers, but these festivals brought that feeling to light in a real, almost tangible way. It was part of why Lewa loved these events so much, and even now, despite the sinking feeling in his gut, there was still a glimmer of that joy that once drove him to dance with wild abandon. But time -and battle- had changed him. In some ways for the better, but also for the worse. Through hardships he had learned the importance of patience, and to value the Matoran virtues of Unity, Duty, and Destiny. And yet, as the ambient noise levels continued to grow as Le-Koro came alive with the revelry of the festival, Lewa felt his pulse rising alongside the increasing volume.

He would never admit it, not even to himself, but part of him had never quite recovered from that terrible battle with the monstrous Kohrak-Kal. Sometimes in the early hours of the morning, when his sleep was fitful at best and impossible at worst, he would start awake with choked back screams, for a moment returned to that terrible prison of endless and inescapable walls of sound, so loud he couldn’t think, couldn’t hear himself scream, only feel the burning sensation in his throat… But at least in those moments, Lewa could escape, he could fly as far or as high as he needed, and while he still couldn’t escape those walls of sound, at least he could pretend for a moment that no one would notice, that he could be still be that invincible, powerful being that everyone expected him to be. 

These festivals were another story entirely. And while Lewa knew, on an academic level, that the sound was different, that it held no malice towards him, that it was directionless and a mere increase of vibrations in the air caused by the excitement of the villagers he held so dearly, something deep and carnal within him would clutch at his chest, constricting it tighter and tighter until he just had to  _ get away _ , if he didn’t get away  _ right now _ he was going to scream, or cry, or call up a giant wind or worse, he would just  _ shut down _ again. He never wanted to be that helpless, never again, and yet the way he couldn’t control his own reactions to something so innocent at its very core brought all those feelings of helplessness crashing down around him, burying him, smothering him, and he  _ needed _ to get away right now.

And so, at the height of the festival, when he’d faked laughter as long as he could stand it, he fled, gradually edging out of the circle of light cast by the fires, sinking into the shadows, and then flying - as fast and as far away as he could. He flew higher, faster, but the scream of wind around him, usually a bubbling laughter of his friend, the air, sounded like an accusation, an attack, and he struggled to find his center, to ride the currents he knew so well when it seemed to be shouting, swirling around him and  _ he’d stayed too long he’d gone too far and everything was screeching _ . Sound - was it real? All in his head? Did it matter at this point?- was everywhere, and he dropped to the earth heavily, stumbling, hands gripping the soil, desperate for a grounding presence, something to remind him that he was here, not there, and safe. That he had friends - a family - who could and would come to his rescue.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Lewa whispered, a chant that fell from his lips almost automatically, the whining sound in his ears increasing in volume. He raised his voice to drown out the ringing in his ears, screaming “NoNoNoNoNoNo,” clutching his head, rocking back and forth, knowing that something was wrong, much worse than those other times, but unable to pull himself back from the clutching abyss. Just as the screech in his head was about to overwhelm the agonized screams tearing from his abused vocal chords, a hand settled upon his shoulder, firm yet gentle, and so solid, so  _ real _ . The shrieking in his head faded, if only slightly, and through the noise Lewa could hear the calm, no-nonsense tone of the Toa of Earth addressing him. 

“Brother,” he was saying, “Are you well?”

Lewa choked back a half-laugh, half-sob at that. He hadn’t been well in so long he’d forgotten what “well” even felt like. 

Onua did not appear to expect or require an answer, his hand gently rubbing small circles down Lewa’s back as his deep, rumbling voice continued. “You are quite far from your village,” he noted, no accusation in his tone, simply observing a fact.”I was under the impression there was a celebration taking place,” he added, a hint of curiosity entering his tone. Still he didn’t seem to expect an answer, gently applying pressure to the Toa of Air’s back as Lewa fought back the ringing in his ears. 

“How,” Lewa tried, wincing at the rasp in his voice, “How did you know I was here?”

“You are in Onu-Wahi, my brother,” Onua answered, a hint of amusement in his tone. “What sort of Toa would I be if I were not aware of the happenings within the borders of my own land?” 

Lewa shrugged at this. “Why are you here, then?” he added.

“My brother appeared to be in distress. I came to offer what assistance I could,” Onua replied calmly, still rubbing Lewa’s back. 

Lewa hated to admit it, but the Toa of Earth’s firm, calming presence was an immense comfort. It felt like a defeat, somehow, admitting that he needed help,  _ again.  _ It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he was always screwing up, making more work for the others. Why had he even become a Toa? Was he just there to screw up and make the other Toa look better by comparison?

“Perhaps you’d like to share what it is that’s on your mind,” Onua suggested, noting the way the Air Toa’s shoulders had stiffened, the way he’d curled in on himself. He knew that look, that posture. He’d seen Lewa adopt a similar posture once before - when the Toa of Air had returned to his senses and realized what he’d done under the influence of an infected kanohi. Lewa always held himself to impeccable standards, but he wasn’t the type to carefully consider alternatives before taking action, which inevitably resulted in him making mistakes and then refusing to forgive himself for whatever it was he’d done.

“Why bother with me?” Lewa asked, sounding miserable.

“Care to elaborate?” Onua prompted, seating himself behind the Toa of Air, who had curled up miserably, knees half-obscuring his face. He kept his hand on Lewa, as he had a feeling that his simple touch was the only thing keeping Air Toa grounded at the moment.

“I can’t even appreciate it,” Lewa said suddenly. “I can’t do anything right. I run in without thinking, and I end up hurting myself and the people I care about every time. The Le-matoran would probably be better off without me.”

“That is an untruth,” Onua said simply.

Lewa snorted. 

“What makes you say so?” Onua asked a moment later, after the silence had stretched for nearly a minute.

“I can’t even enjoy the celebration,” Lewa said miserably.

“Celebration?” Onua said, momentarily confused. “Ah yes, it is a festival this evening in Le-Koro,” he said suddenly. “I had forgotten.”

“Yes, well,” Lewa paused uncomfortably. “I couldn’t stay,” he said after a moment.

Onua nodded, rubbing his shoulder gently, otherwise remaining companionably silent.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lewa said firmly.

Onua said nothing, only continued the circular pattern.

“Kopaka and Gali were there,” Lewa said after a moment. “I always need saving!” he snarled, pulling away from Onua’s hand, rising and taking a half-step before pausing. “And I can’t let go,” he continued. “I…” he spun around, voice pleading Onua to understand, and to withold judgement. “I’m so  _ scared _ . And I can’t be scared, Onua. I’m a Toa!”

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid,” Onua said, laying a hand on his shoulder again.

Lewa started slightly. “Of course-”

“There is nothing. Wrong. With being afraid,” Onua insisted, iron in his tone. 

Lewa shrugged out from under the Toa of Earth’s hand. “But-”

“The problem.” Onua continued as though the Toa of Air had not spoken, “Is when you attempt to shoulder your fears  _ alone _ .” Onua sighed with exasperated fondness. “After all this time, have you learned  _ nothing _ ?”

Lewa flinched, then seemed to wilt. Onua cursed himself mentally. “I speak of  _ Unity _ , my brother. For as much as we share each others’ victories, so should we shoulder each others’ burdens. No one deserves to suffer alone.” Onua laid a hand on Lewa’s shoulder. This time he didn’t shrug it off. “You are not  _ alone _ , Lewa. In strength, yes, but also in  _ weakness _ , together, we can and  _ will  _ find our Destiny.”

Lewa smiled weakly. “You could give Turaga Vakama a run for his money with your motivational speeches?”

“Please,” Onua scoffed, “That old windbag? I left him in my dust  _ years _ ago.”

Lewa laughed at that, finally, and for the first time that night, Onua felt like he might have said something right.

**Author's Note:**

> This is all the fault of a post on tumblr, which read:
> 
> "Okay but consider: Lewa having aversions to loud sounds after that incident with Kohrak-Kal in the third book, and sometimes it’s fine and he can pretend nothing ever happened, but other times when Le-Koro is bursting with fireworks he finds himself drifting away to keep his heart from racing out of panic
> 
> hard mode: imagine onua finding him like that (since kopaka and gali were the only ones that knew about it)"
> 
> ...so anyway I'm a giant nerd and HAD to write it because that scene was probably one of my childhood's DEFINING ANGST moments (another being the first book in the Jedi Apprentice series, lol, but that's another fic for another day).
> 
> I actually wrote this quite awhile ago but never got around to uploading it. Now I have! I wish I still had my copies of the old Bionicle books, I read them SO MUCH as a kid. Between Knights Kingdom, Bionicle, and Exo-Force, half of my childhood fanfic flights of fancy were sponsored by Lego (lol). Nowadays I still pick up these old fandoms occasionally, because I love them. I hope you loved reading about them. Thanks!


End file.
